These Final Hours
by keotla
Summary: I can't make you love me if you don't." Kevin says goodbye. Unrequited Kevin/Penelope, implied and future Morgan/Garcia
1. These Final Hours

A/N: Slight spoilers for Penelope. Kevin reflects on the relationship and says goodbye.

* * *

Staring up at the ceiling, Kevin Lynch sighed again, as the woman next to him began to mutter and shift restlessly. He didn't know if she'd always had nightmares; it wouldn't surprise him if they hadn't begun with the shooting, based on the little she'd told him about the things she saw as the BAU's analyst. He wanted to reach over and comfort her, pull her close, reassure her of her safety. He didn't. Experience had taught him that he only seemed to make it worse – the moment she felt his touch, she'd shriek and sit bolt upright, terror evident in every straining muscle in her arms, shoulders and back. Instead, he simply sat up and watched over her, waiting for the nightmare to end. She whimpered next to him, head tossing on the pillow. He'd seen this often enough in the year they'd been together. Next would come the gasp, the total stiffening of her body as she relived – he wasn't sure exactly which part this was, if it was when she'd initially gotten shot, so unexpectedly, or if this was later, when that bastard Battle had come back to try to finish the job. Kevin strongly suspected it was the latter, though, because she always seemed to relax shortly after this, a slight smile covering her lips as she murmured _his_ name. Not Battle's, but Derek's.

And that, he thought, was why he was awake and staring at the ceiling instead of sleeping soundly next to her. He carefully lay back down, pulling her now calmly sleeping body closer. Derek Morgan was the 900 pound pink elephant in the room. Or rather, their feelings for each other were. Kevin knew that the woman he was holding likely didn't know exactly how she felt about him – or if she did, she thought she'd gotten over them. She wasn't the type to lie that way, or to use people like that. He wasn't sure about Agent Morgan – oh, he knew the man had feelings for her. Kevin just wasn't sure if he was aware of them or not. But after a year, Kevin himself had come to face those feelings. His girlfriend, the woman sleeping next to him, Penelope Garcia, was in love with one of her colleagues, Derek Morgan, and he with her.

There hadn't really been an exact moment when he'd become aware of it. He'd watched them banter, amused and secure – he had assumed that if they'd wanted to be together, they would have been. It wasn't until he and Pen had started sharing a bed that he'd really started to get an inkling, and even then he'd chalked it up to the traumatic experience she'd just suffered. But eventually, he'd noticed Agent Morgan watching her when he thought no one would notice, and there was something in his eyes that made Kevin look a little closer. He'd started watching Pen, and noticing that she would occasionally do the same thing. And he'd begun to see. Even as he refused to acknowledge it even in his conscious thoughts, he began to look at other job possibilities, something that he could be as devoted to as she was to her team. That led him to the classified DHS operation. He'd pursued it without telling her, still not sure he was right, or that he'd wanted it. Before what would have been his final interview, though, his conscience got the better of him. He realized he had to tell her, while it was still a possibility, rather than a sure thing. When her first reaction was shock, he was mildly optimistic. He was further encouraged by her next question – "Are we breaking up?" but his hopes were shattered when she told him she couldn't come with him – that she couldn't leave the team. He understood then, and there were no doubts left in his mind. He recognized that there was no way for him to make her feel something she didn't – or to feel something other then what she did.

That had led him here. He'd made the evening special, more for himself then her, although he didn't want her to think there were any hard feelings, he had wanted this last memory. He'd taken her to one of their favorite restaurants, a place they reserved for special occasions. He'd set up the bedroom - the candles, the flowers - before he'd left to pick her up, so that all he had to do was dash around with the lighter while claiming to be in the bathroom. The candles had been the only light in the room, casting their soft, flickering light against the walls as he'd drawn her in, laid her down. He'd made love to her, one more time, knowing that it would be the last time. There, in the dark, he laid down his heart, knowing that even though she would feel pleasure, the love she'd feel would be that of a friend rather than of a lover, even if she didn't recognize it. He was giving himself this one, final night. In the morning, he'd do what was right. He'd let her go, and if things went well, subtly - or not, depending on how stubborn she was being, he thought with a smile, point her in the direction of her heart. For now, though, he would take these final hours with her, simply being; holding her, loving her – and letting her go.

* * *

A/N2: I never, ever thought I would write Kevin: trust me, I am a die hard Morgan/Garcia shipper and I can't stand him. There could be more to this, if there's interest, and the next bits (which are sorta swirling around my head right now) are definitely not from Lynch's point of view. This was more then a little inspired by "I can't make you love me" by Bonnie Raitt. I know it's written from a woman's point of view, but it seemed to me to fit the situation. Please let me know what you think - this was my first Criminal Minds fanfic, and I'd be delighted to hear what you thought of it, and if you'd like more. Thanks!


	2. Life Got in the Way

Hi, all - here's chapter 2. Thanks to all who reviewed the first chapter - I will be replying, it's just been a crazy few days, and it's about to be a crazy few more. This chapter was vaguely inspired by Sister Hazel's "Life Got in the Way". Hope you enjoy!

* * *

Penelope had woken slightly when he'd gotten up. Waiting for him to come back, she thought about how nice the evening before had been, and reminded herself that evenings like that, out of the blue, were why she was with Kevin: because he treated her like a princess, and they had so many similar interests. When he didn't come back, she forced herself out of bed, dragging her hands through her unruly blond curls, and went to find him. When she came into the room, she found him staring, trance-like, out the back window of his apartment. She quietly moved to the coffee pot and poured them both cups before taking his over.

"Good morning," she murmured, voice still thick with sleep. He jumped, whirling around with something akin to panic on his face. "Oh, h-hi," he stuttered. "You scared me. I wasn't expecting you up for a while."

She smiled and handed him his coffee. "Sorry, didn't mean to. I woke up when you got up and decided to join you when you didn't come back."

He smiled back, although Penelope noticed that the smile didn't reach his eyes, and turned towards the table. She studied him, watching his body language, and knew something was going on. "Everything ok?" she asked casually, moving towards the counter to grab her own mug before joining him at the table.

He looked at her, and smiled wryly. "I never could hide anything from you, could I?" he answered, and she shook her head.

"I work with profilers. It would have been impossible for me not to have learned at least a _few _things," she teased. Taking a sip of coffee, she studied him. He was tense, far more then he should have been after the evening they'd shared. She knew he wasn't terribly upset about the Karachi thing, so what was it? "Wanna talk about it?"

He sighed and looked down, absently fiddling with his coffee cup. "Not really," he answered finally, "But I need to."

"Ok, I'm all ears. Need a refill before we start?" she asked, gesturing to the coffee pot. At his nod, she refilled both mugs, leaving the carafe on the table between them, and sat back down. Sipping, she waited for him to begin.

She watched him struggle with his words, open his mouth to start, only to immediately close it again, several times. When he finally looked up at her, frustration and sorrow in his eyes, she was beginning to get worried.

"I can't find the right words," he finally muttered, frustration evident in his voice. "So I'm just going to say it. But you have to promise me that you'll hear me out, that you won't interrupt."

"I…want to end… this. Us," he managed finally, and she stared at him in disbelief. Kevin could see the shock, anger, pain and questions, and he quickly spoke again. "I love you, so much," he said, voice cracking, "But I… this isn't working."

Penelope was shocked, and speechless. Of all the things she had expected to hear from him, it was anything but this. "I… I thought…" she stopped, shook her head, trying to clear it. "You love me, but you're breaking up with me?"

He smiled, sadly. "If I ask you a question, will you answer me honestly?"

She frowned. "I've never lied to you, Kevin. Why would I start now?"

He nodded. "Penelope, are you in love with me?" He waved off her immediate reply, and said, "No, wait. You promised me honesty. I know you love me, I'm not questioning that. But are you in love _with_ me? Stop and think about this one for a second. Do you love me as a lover, potential husband? Or do you love me as a friend?"

She stopped, stared. Opened her mouth, only to close it again. Of course she did… didn't she? Why else would she be with him, if she wasn't in love with him? Ok, so maybe she wasn't all the way in love _yet._ That didn't mean she wouldn't be soon. They were perfect for each other. Similar hobbies, similar interests, he understood both her hours and her devotion to the team… but…

Kevin sat and, watching her think, managed a small smile. Her mind was fascinating in its speed and complexity. He watched realization slowly come as she raised her eyes to meet his, and nodded. "You're not, are you?" he said quietly.

"I… I could be," she whispered. "I want to be."

He smiled again. "We've been together for more than a year, Pen. If you were going to be, you would be."

They sat in silence for a moment. "Why are you doing this?" she finally asked, dazed. "I care about you. You _say_ you're in love with me. So… why are you doing this?"

"I don't want to. Believe me, I wanted this to last. I wanted to grow old with you. I wanted you – and still do – so much. But we both deserve better than this, this half thing. You care, but you're not in love…and neither of us should settle." He hesitated, deliberated, and then said it. "And because, whether you know it or not, believe it or not, there is a man that you are in love with, and…"

"What?! Kevin, I am not cheating on you—"

"Wait, let me finish. I know that. But there is someone that your feelings go deeper towards, and, if I'm not mistaken, his do for you, too."

"Who…?" She trailed off, bewildered.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "I know you know the answer to that, Pen."

"…Derek?" At his nod, she immediately protested. "Derek does not have feelings for me, at least not that way. He trusts me, and he loves me, but only as a friend. And I…" she swallowed hard, then continued. "I buried any hopes I might have in that direction years ago."

Kevin smiled gently, and shook his head. "You may think both of things, Pen, but you're wrong. He loves you; I see it in his eyes and in the way he watches you when he's certain he won't get caught. And I'm certain you tried to bury it, but I'm equally certain that however successful you were then, your feelings simply deepened into the love you feel now."

Confused and hurt, she got up, paced to the window over the sink and back. "I don't understand you. Here you are, telling me in one breath that you're in love with me, the next that you're breaking up with me, and then the third that I'm in love with someone else, and that he has feelings for me too!" She threw up her arms and stalked around the kitchen. He merely watched, waited for her to digest, to come to terms with what he was saying. When she finally stalked back to the table, he smiled.

"Ok. Say you're right about all the… other stuff," she said uncomfortably. "What happened to us?"

"I want us to be happy. We can't be that together." He shrugged. "Life got in the way, Pen. As much as we hate it, it happens." He got up, walked over to her and pulled her into a hug.

"Can we at least stay friends?" She whispered, hugging him back.

He smiled into her hair, ignoring the slight blurring of his eyes and kissed the top of her head before pulling away. "Of course. Now go get ready. I'll take you home."


	3. Going Out This Far

Hi! So... this chapter is _long _overdue, and I am SO sorry about that, but I got the most horrible case of writers block until last week. I hadn't forgotten about it and I hope you enjoy (and that you'll tell me if you did!)!

They're not mine, I'm just playing.

Full title: I Had Not Planned on Going Out This Far

* * *

Kevin walked her to the door, waited while she unlocked it. Walking in and setting her stuff down, she turned and looked at him, managed a smile. The ride over had been silent, her mind working furiously over the things he had said and the completely unexpected way her morning had turned out. He smiled back, and smoothing a blond curl off her cheek, kissed her forehead.

"See you around, Penelope." And with that, he turned and walked back to his car. She watched as he got into his car and drove away before slowly closing the door and turning to stare blankly into her apartment. The thoughts that had crowded her mind in the car were mysteriously gone now and for a long moment, all she could do was look around at her apartment. Shaking her head, she forced herself to move to the kitchen and start a pot of coffee.

She wasn't sure what to make of what Kevin said. Was there any truth to it? Okay, she admitted to herself reluctantly, there was truth to the part about not being in love with him. But she had cared for him, deeply. And what was all that stuff about being in love with Derek? There couldn't possibly be any truth to that. She knew herself very well; she'd made a point to be completely in touch with her emotions. Shaking her head, she poured a cup of coffee and wandered over to look out the window. No, she told herself. That was ridiculous. There was no way she had feelings for Morgan, and in a few hours, she'd have forgotten all about this. It would just be something crazy that Kevin had said. Satisfied, she marched into the bathroom, determined to start on a number of projects she hadn't had time to, between Kevin and work. She pointedly ignored the little voice that was persistently whispering that it wasn't that easy.

By midnight, Penelope had exhausted herself. She had cleaned her apartment top to bottom, gone through her closet and filled several bags full of clothing to be donated, run a system check and update on her home computer system, cleaned out her hard-drive, gone to the grocery store, cooked herself a nice dinner and, while watching the new Star Trek movie and enjoying a glass of wine, had steadily worked through a stack of paperwork that had been taunting her for days. Deciding it was time to turn in as she finished cleaning up her dinner mess, she changed into her favorite pair of comfortable pajamas, washed her face, crawled into bed, and snapped off the light. She rolled over, curled into her favorite sleeping position and closed her eyes.

Several moments later, they popped back open. Frowning, she rolled over, fluffed the pillow, pulled the covers up as she laid back down and again, closed her eyes.

Several moments after that, she abruptly sat up, snapped the light on and flung the covers back. Marching to her kitchen, she got a glass of water, swallowed half of it and marched back to bed, and determined that _this_ time, she would sleep.

This time she forced herself to lay still for a full thirty minutes, eyes squeezed tightly shut, before she sighed, flopped over onto her back and flipped the light on. Yawning, she stared at the ceiling. Her mind was once again racing, and she couldn't get it to turn back off. Suddenly finding herself too restless to lay still, she got up and paced to her bedroom window, then to her living room window, then to the kitchen, before doing the circuit again. _This isn't happening,_ she told herself. _I can_not_be losing sleep over this!_ She continued to pace before forcing herself to stop at her living room window. Discovering that she was too restless to even stand still, she resumed pacing, hands fisted at her sides, and resumed her internal debate. _There's nothing there. No feelings. None. _She turned, paced back to the window. _I just need to think rationally about this._

Thinking back, she remembered her shooting, the pain, the fear and embarrassment that she hadn't listened to both Derek and her own instincts. On the other hand, she remembered Derek's words and actions, his "Hey, silly girl. I love you, you know that, right?" and hadn't her heart leapt then? But she had met Kevin the next day and Derek hadn't said anything else. Then his offer to stay back with her on their next case, followed by his insistence that she not strain herself trying to fix something as silly as her chair and the way he appeared as soon as the plane had landed to fulfill his promise to fix it himself.

Through her musing, her pacing slowed, and on her next circuit through the kitchen, she stopped long enough to put the kettle on for tea before pacing back to the window. There, her gaze rested on the city below. She remembered the way that Derek had come straight to her after hearing Kevin ask to talk to Agent Rossi, "man to man" and how he had wanted to know what was going on. She remembered the brief look of shock and then the hurt that had flashed over his face before he had pulled a mask down and asked her if she was happy.

As the kettle started to whistle, she absently walked back to the kitchen and made her tea on autopilot, still lost in her contemplation.

Then there was New York. Her eyes pricked and started to water and she had to take several deep breaths as she pulled the memories into focus. She was still haunted by nightmares about that night: listening to Derek plead with her to let him speak and her refusal, but in her nightmares, the explosion is the last thing she hears before the line goes dead. Since then, she has woken up crying several times, the line between what's real and just a dream blurred. After several deep breaths, she has calmed enough to remember the words that followed. They're burned into her memory, and she has to wipe her eyes now as his voice echoes in her head: _"You're my god-given solace, Garcia. Don't you ever stop talking to__me."_

Moments later, Penelope had disconnected the phone, ripped off her earpiece and threw it on the desk before spinning away and vomiting into the nearest trashcan. She'd been shaking in reaction, but it wasn't until later, when they were all was back at the hotel and she was alone that she fell apart. She'd put the shower on, hot as she could stand it, and cried herself out where she was certain she wouldn't be heard through thin hotel walls.

Forcing herself back into the present, she shivered and moved away from the window. Curled up in a corner of the couch, hands cradling her mug, she stared at the darkened corners of her apartment, analyzing her reaction to the events in New York. At the time, she'd been unable to think of anything but what her team had just gone through. _There wasn't anything special about my reaction,_ she told herself pointedly. _Anyone would react that way at the possibility of losing one of their friends._ Then why hadn't she reacted similarly when Hotch had been nearly blown up? After all, the agent he was with had died as a result of injuries from that explosion; Shouldn't Penelope have reacted the same way, if it truly was just a normal reaction?

She began to realize that there was a pattern: any time Derek was in danger or injured or shot at, she reacted far worse then she reacted when it was the rest of the team. _Still,_she told herself, _that only makes sense. I'm closest to him, right?_ No, she realized, it wasn't the same. She'd been horrified and upset when Emily had been beaten by that psycho cult leader, terrified of the state Gideon had been in before he'd left; she'd even been worried about Rossi when he'd left for Indianapolis so hurriedly. But with any other member of her team, she was never affected as strongly as when Derek was involved.

Looking a little deeper, she analyzed her behaviors, and the feelings behind them. Then, suddenly, she bolted upright and jumped to her feet. The full weight of the truth behind Kevin's words hit her like a train. Pacing frantically back to the kitchen to add a shot of whiskey from the lone bottle she kept on hand to her tea, she frantically paced back to the window. It couldn't be! He was just her brother, her friend, her flirting buddy! Angry now, both at herself for getting into this mess, and, irrationally, at Kevin, she tossed back the rest of her tea and marched back to the kitchen. All she needed was a good night's sleep to put this behind her, and when she woke up tomorrow, everything would be back to normal.

It had to be.

* * *

It wasn't.

Penelope forced herself to sleep with sheer determination and the liberal use of Benadryl, but in the morning, she was even more agitated then when she had gone to sleep. So, she spent the entire day doing something she had promised herself she would never do: running from her emotions. By dinner, though, she had run out of things to use as distractions and she couldn't avoid the thoughts anymore. Would he know that something was different? Would he be able to see it in her behavior (and _damn_, she hated working with profilers) like usual? If he could see it, he would ask about it, and she was never a very good liar, so what would she say? That Kevin had broken up with her, obviously, but what if he could see that there was more?

By the time she was ready for bed, Penelope had convinced herself that no matter what she did, he would be able to see right through her. Still unsure of what she would do if he tried, she took several more Benadryl and forced herself to sleep.


End file.
